


a marital aid...of sorts

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Exhaustion, Extra Treat, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 08:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20672057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: “Come on,” Tony pressed, kneading between Stephen’s shoulders. “How bad could it be? We’re Avengers, right? Earth’s Mightiest Heroes? What, all it takes is a little fun-time pollen to undo all that?”





	a marital aid...of sorts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celtic7irish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/gifts).

It comes to Tony in a moment of clarity. Between the frantic rush of blood and skin seemingly on fire. Sore legs and short breath.

Out of nowhere, he remembers Stephen’s face. Not now, not his face _now_. That, Tony barely sees through eyes bleared by exhaustion. Stephen tips his head back. Tony only sees his scowling mouth and the sweat-damp length of his neck.

Tony remembers Stephen’s face when he showed him the bag. He looked up from some old wizard book he was reading, because that’s all Stephen seems to do nowadays. Read wizard books and practice wizard spells behind the dark walls of the Sanctum. Tony was fine with moving in here, he was, and is, but there’s a reason he’s kept the place uptown. It’s high up, bright, lots of natural light, but it still has his work room. Safe enclosure. His own personal space. Tony likes personal space sometimes.

But not all the time. Hence the bag, and Stephen’s face. That incredulous, half-smirked ‘you’ve gotta be shitting me’ face.

Which to be fair, Stephen has never said within Tony’s hearing range. Cap did once. Tony sort of heard him on the comms, over the ringing in his ears courtesy of a Hulk bludgeoning. 2012 Hulk. Also, technically present day Hulk, but from the past. Their lives are weird.

“How did you get it?” Stephen asked. Tony didn’t bother answering. Hello: Tony Stark; former-playboy billionaire philanthropist. “Is that stuff even legal?” Stephen asked.

“Seriously?” Tony retorted. “You're asking me if this is legal? You? Who knows how much crazy occult stuff you’ve got in here.”

“Not occult,” Stephen remarked because, right, leave it to him to pick on the important details.

“Creepy stuff then,” Tony said. “Point is - you? Don’t get to ask if anything is legal. Ever. Not as long as you’ve got that cloak. Living fashion statement? No way that’s legal.”

Stephen scoffed, and his outerwear offered the fabric version of a middle finger. And to think, Tony let Stephen invite the thing to their wedding.

“Why did I marry you again?" Stephen wondered. 

Tony, ever the doling spouse, smiled and draped heavy arms on Stephen's shoulders. Stephen huffed and looked completely put out, but he still set his scarred hands on Tony’s sides. Tony knew he had him. 

“Want me to remind you?” Tony asked. “There’s my smile. My eyes. My genius-level intellect. And my ass. Let's face it, you totally went for my ass.”

“Tony, I don’t know.” The gloominess of the Sanctum made Stephen's eyes look like storm clouds. “It’s unpredictable.”

“Come on,” Tony pressed, kneading between Stephen’s shoulders. “How bad could it be? We’re Avengers, right? Earth’s Mightiest Heroes? What, all it takes is a little fun-time pollen to undo all that?”

Stephen raised a brow. “Are you calling me an Avenger now?”

“I’m calling you wed to an Avenger,” Tony said, “which means you’re close. Avenger-adjacent. An Avenger +1, if you will.”

“I will not,” Stephen said. 

“Fair, but… Ok, I promise we’ll go slow. I promise.” Tony ran fingers through Stephen’s hair and looked him in the eyes. “Whenever you want to stop, we’ll stop. You have my word.”

Stephen sighed. Some buried reservation in his face went slack. “Fine,” he said, eyes on Tony’s. “One time.”

That’s the face that pops in Tony’s mind with crystal-clear resolution. Stephen, stern but willing. Serious but a touch intrigued. It pops into his head four orgasms in, when Tony can't remember his own name, let alone speak. He’s on top of Stephen, he thinks.

Yeah, Tony is definitely on top. But it hasn’t always been this way. Somewhere in the middle, Stephen took him from behind. Tony's never ending erection chafed against the mattress. His cheek is still a rosy red from grinding against a pillow. 

Stephen won’t have that same problem. Stephen is on his back, and the only pain he has to worry about is a crick in his neck from how far he’s tilted back. Tony can’t help it. He’s burned out, too much sensation blistering his skin. But his mouth finds its way to Stephen’s throat. He’s licking and sucking, and Stephen is moaning under him. Shaking, scarred hands comb up Tony’s sides. Tony grunts against Stephen’s skin. Feeling crawls up Tony’s spine.

“We’ll go slow,” Stephen mutters, short of breath.

“Shut up,” Tony gasps. “Stop. I mean, wait no. Don’t stop. Keep going.” Fingers twitch in the small of Tony’s back. His moan gets lost against the column of Stephen’s throat.

Short nails scratch across Tony’s spine. With a hiss, Tony grabs Stephen’s hands and pins them under his. Stephen’s fingers, lined with puffed pink scars, shiver in Tony’s grasp. Tony nuzzles his throat, tongue darting out for a taste. Stephen’s groan is instant and so instinctive, it makes Tony’s whole body throb. 

“Look at us,” Tony breathes, “This is one way to get closer, right?”

“You’re making it worse,” Stephen grumbles, but his voice strains. It's like he’s desperate, like after everything Tony’s given him he still needs.

Tony surges up to kiss him. His body shifts, and Stephen makes a broken sound against his lips. Stephen’s knees squeeze against Tony’s sides. Tony tastes Stephen without hesitation. His head is spinning. He’s hot all over, sweating and out of control. Stephen wrestles under him, pushing and growling until he gets his hands free. He pulls Tony closer. Forces their mouths together. Tony won't be able to leave the Sanctum tomorrow without a bunch of scandalous looks. 

Stephen’s mouth looks the same. Pink rim around the lips, cracked and swollen and completely off the market, thank you very much. The Personal Property of Tony Stark.

Tony comes knotted in as much of Stephen’s body as Stephen can wrap around him. Amazingly, Tony still _can_ cum, his moan lost in the open invitation of Stephen’s mouth. Stephen twists under him, that sudden “ah- ahh!” so familiar by now. In the heat of the moment, Tony finds himself trapped in Stephen’s arms. With all the fancy Merlin stuff, Tony doesn’t give Stephen's strength enough credit. For a second, Tony thinks his back may break.

Then, Stephen goes lax under him, arms melting down to the bedspread. Stephen’s entirety seems to deflate like an inflated mattress let out. Tony goes warm ice cream on top of him. The pollen must be potent. He doesn’t even cringe at the wetness between them. Tethered together by the joys of human anatomy. No wonder Strange went into medicine.

Tony listen to Stephen breathe for awhile. He has deep, authoritative breaths. Heavy but not labored. Sure and chest-shifting, making Tony rise and fall on top of him.

“You good?” Stephen mumbles.

Tony nods but doesn’t look at him. Looking at him would take too much effort.

“Good,” Stephen says. “This is all your fault.”

“God, I hate you sometimes,” Tony mumbles against his chest. “Whose idea was this whole marriage thing anyway?”

“Mmm, yours.” Stephen muffles a yawn. “How many times did you ask? Seven?”

“Lucky number seven,” Tony reminds. He lifts his weary head, and the whole room shifts - including Stephen.

Stephen gazes down at Tony through low-lidded eyes. His smile is small, but still very much a smile. “Let’s never do that again,” he says.

“Agreed,” Tony says. “Except - I don’t know, anniversaries?”

“Tony-”

“Not all anniversaries. The big ones, that's all,” Tony says. “And birthdays. Even numbered years.”

“No,” Stephen says.

Tony smiles. “You know what would be fun? New Year’s. Am I right? After the ball drops, of course. We have to have some manners, but after that-”

“You’re unbelievable,” Stephen tells him.

Tony shifts up to kiss his chin. With a grunt, he settles back down, tucked under Stephen’s jaw. “Oh, I know. Wait for it… Thanksgiving.”

“I want a divorce,” Stephen mumbles. He closes his eyes.

Tony does the same. “Fine,” he says. “We’ll skip Thanksgiving. This year.”


End file.
